Little Closer
by Ellenka
Summary: What hunters would we be if we failed to catch each other?
1. just a little

**A/N:** My apologies for my inability to write nowadays. Here goes a tiny pointless half of a probable two-shot just because. Few lines directly from canon in between the fanservice. I don't own anything THG-related, just a headful of mess.

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**Little Closer**

**I.**

"I almost forgot! Happy Hunger Games!" Gale plucks a few blackberries from the bushes around us. "And may the odds…" He tosses a berry in a high arc toward me.

I catch the delicious offering and bite down before finishing with a loud and affected, "…be ever in your favor!" We burst out laughing at our attempt to mimic Effie Trinket, the maniacally upbeat woman who arrives once a year to escort two kids to their deaths.

It's a bad joke, but we still repeat it year after year, laughing off the reminder that the odds are _never_ in our favor. Whether we get reaped or survive long enough to end up in the mines, our future is underground.

Yet it's hard to think about right now - under the glorious blue sky, with soft breeze in our hair, and lush greenery separating us from our coaldusted prison of a district.

The breakfast that awaits us is uncommonly luxurious too. Gale got a small loaf of bread from the baker for only a squirrel, and Prim left us a lump of goat cheese wrapped in basil leaves to go with it. Gale cuts the bread and spreads it with the soft cheese, while I pick a handful of berries for us to share.

We settle in our hidden nook in the rocks, cramped but comfortable in each other's proximity.

Gale's body is almost as hard as the rock, all bones thinly wrapped in wiry muscle, but so much nicer to lean against. I'd taken off my hunting jacket to soak up the sun, but I'm even more intensely aware of the warmth from my companion, seeping right into me through the worn fabric of our shirts. It seems to connect us somehow, and I catch myself thinking how damn precious the connection is.

I draw my knees up to my chest and settle back, my head falling against the top of Gale's shoulder, and feel him shift slightly to accommodate me.

_We all feel a little closer today_. I meant something else back when I said it first - that we are all slightly more united against a common enemy. But I guess it applies to Gale and me too, even though there's hardly any room to go. We are used to sitting close enough to touch – our thighs pressed together and arms brushing with every movement, to spending long hours together and completely trusting each other while we are at it, to sharing duties and burdens as well as laughs and encouragement.

As if we were one in all but the physical sense, which is as scary as it is intriguing. Voicing a decision to change it would mean acknowledging things, it would mean saying _this is what we have and this is what we can lose_. Gale is not saying anything either, he knows I don't want to hear it. Not when he has forty-two slips in the reaping bowl, and I have twenty, and Prim has her first one, and even that is too much. He's not really mine because he can slip through my fingers any day, especially today, in just a few hours… but the futile desire to fight that burns deep, a mix of fear and need and possessiveness in equal measure.

_We_ are a promise with no guarantee of keeping, but sometimes I'm more afraid of letting it go unfulfilled than of fulfilling it.

I wonder if he feels like that too, if he wants to somehow fuse us together just to make sure we'll stay that way. I don't even know what exactly it is that I want. I have overheard girls at school talking about all kinds of things to do with boys. Even about Gale in particular. Of course they'd want him, with his looks and strength and unfailing devotion to family. I hated that, but I always told myself I just don't want them to lure my hunting partner away from me.

I hate it still, even after I've come to believe he's not going to leave me for anyone.

After all, why would he? They don't know him like I do. I know the sound of Gale's heartbeat and how it speeds up when I get close enough to touch, steadily thumping away the seconds of waiting for prey. My own always joins the rhythm. I know when he smiles genuinely and when he just puts on a grin to keep his siblings obliviously happy, or a smirk to charm people into giving him a better trade. I know when to argue and when to let him talk; I can read every twitch of his expression.

I know everything but what to do with him when we get a bit too close and the warmth of his body makes me tingle for more. I wish I had enough time to figure it out. I usually don't let myself bother, but the stress of today is different, shadowed by a menace that sends my nerves into an overdrive. We'll have to be back in the square at two o'clock and sign in with a bloodprint to assure the Capitol our bodies ultimately belong to them. Then stand and wait whether we'll be reaped apart and away from our world.

It seems especially beautiful today, with the valley under us sunlit and inviting, full of life to thrive on. I savor the sight, my body relaxed and content with the pleasant aftertaste of breakfast still lingering in my mouth. The moment feels too good to last and let's face it, it can't, but I don't want to care, at least for a few more minutes

I shift my head on Gale's shoulder, looking up at him. He is staring far ahead too, but his forehead is furrowed in thought.

"We could do it, you know," he says very softly, without tearing his gaze away from the far horizon.

I don't think I have to ask, but I still do. "What?"

"Leave the district. Run off. Live in the woods. You and I, we could make it." He'd finally turned to me, and the words brush my face. I breathe the prospect in. It makes the sweet fresh air all the more intoxicating.

"You know we can't," I remind him, automatically and unnecessarily.

"I know," he concedes. Running away with our families would be too risky – especially today, when our absence would be easily noted – and we'd never leave them behind.

It was stupid of him to mention, stupid of me to consider even for a second. So tempting, though… Then we'd have all the time in the world. To figure things out and everything.

But that's a luxury we can't afford.

In fact, we should have already gotten up and gone about our business, stocking up for the days when we'll have to kill lots of time by mandatory watching… if we are lucky.

"We'd better go. Hunting, I mean," I mutter, almost irritably.

"Yeah."

Gale hadn't bothered to pull away, so his breath fans over my skin. Reinforcing my body's decision that leaving our warm and comfortable almost-embrace is the last thing I want to do. Gale can read me well enough to know that. I'm still avoiding his eyes, but I end up staring at his lips instead.

Perhaps for too long, perhaps not for long enough, because he leans down and presses them against my forehead.

He moves to pull away after a brief, careful kiss, but I don't quite let him and stretch my hand to touch him – it's not like I should, but I suddenly _have to_, as if I could make the memory of his features more tangible. Just in case. One has to be prepared for hard times, right? He looks anything but fragile, with healthy sunkissed skin taut over chiseled bones, but I find myself touching him with utmost care, is if the moment could shatter if I make a wrong move.

We look similar to a certain extent, the colors of our eyes and hair and skin almost matching, but most people from the Seam resemble each other that way. So much that the Capitol announcers like to 'joke' about not being able to tell a pair of tributes from Twelve apart from the unfortunates from the last year. To them we may be alike, but we are different enough when you care to look.

I'm close enough to see my reflection in his eyes, framed with silvery irises. Just a tiny, fleeting imprint, but I like that.

I know Gale's features by heart, but touching his face is much more interesting than just looking. At first he seems stunned by the sudden display of affection, but then his face breaks into a grin, so wide and hopeful it almost breaks my heart. He hides it, then, turning his head and pressing his lips against my palm. His fingers close around my wrist, holding it like a tiny bird that'd fallen out of its nest. Torn whether to take it or to put it back. I guess he should do that, return me to myself before I give too much away.

But he holds on, and I can't bring myself to mind all that much. Perhaps I could both give and take, and everything will turn out okay.

"Catnip?" he mutters into my palm.

"Hmm?"

He gently pulls my hand away from his face, but doesn't let go. "If I started telling you how much you mean to me an how much I want this to last, would you ever forgive me?"

It takes me a moment to process the question. Then I burst out laughing.

"No way," I choke out in between. "Not a word."

"Good. Just checking." Gale's lips twist into a smirk. As my laughter dies, I watch them carefully, their imprint still burning in my palm, on my forehead. There is something I want to know, but how do I tell him?

"It's more than I could say anyway," he continues, cupping my face and lightly running his thumb over my cheekbone, just like I'd done to him moments earlier. I think his eyes tell me, more than I'd dare to hear, but I can't bring myself to break the contact. "So if I can't say a word, just remember this, okay?"

Gale leans in slowly, giving me all the time I'd need to stop him, but I don't, not until his lips touch mine and not after.

I hold onto him as tightly as I can, demanding more for every kiss I give and giving more for every kiss I get.

_It's just today_, I keep telling myself. _I need him just a little closer_.


	2. just a lot

Thank you all for your sweet feedback. Here goes more pointlessness and more fanservice, aka part two.

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**Little Closer**

**II.**

Reality pours back with gasping breaths, still pleasantly blurred at the edges.

For a moment, all I can see is Gale's old, familiar smile - that might look just a little better on just-kissed lips – then I pull back to see how far up the sun already is, and to remember how much work we still have to do.

"We really should go." _Now_, before I do something as stupid as to climb into his lap and squeeze him between my thighs and never let him go.

Gale drops his hands from my face reluctantly, his fingers ghosting along my neck, leaving tingling trails. "Okay. Where to?"

"Fishing. C'mon, I know a good place I haven't showed you yet." After that, I'll have only one secret place left – an actual lake with an old concrete cabin near – but that's too far away for today.

He raises his eyebrows and shrugs slightly. "Lead the way."

I stand to gather our stuff and go, and don't question why he needs a minute to follow.

I start for a small pond fed by a clear stream, and spreading into a marshy area thick with arrowhead plants. Also known as duck tubers... or katniss. Gale laughs heartily when I explain along the way, and tells me how edible I look until I smack him.

"See, but that's what my father once told me," I admit between laughs. "As long as you can find yourself, you will never starve."

"Makes sense. Well, I won't be that lucky these days," he chuckles.

When we do pass a hawthorn bush, though, Gale plucks the end of a small, shadowed branch with a white cluster of late flowers, and tucks it into my hair above my ear. A thorn lightly pricks my skin, enough to sting but not to draw blood.

"But at least I suit you," Gale tells me.

I roll my eyes, but respond eagerly when he slides the backs of his fingers down my cheek and tilts my face up to kiss me. I'd put my jacket back on when we got into the shade of trees, but Gale slips one hand under, its warmth spreading from the small of my back and coiling deep in my stomach. My lips move with his and my free hand idly caresses his chest, before settling right over his heart and pushing him away.

The preoccupation with each other is definitely slowing us down, and I silently scold myself for minding much less than I should.

/

Luckily, we get a few good shots along the way, making up for the lost time, and our bags are already half full by the time we arrive at our destination. After setting up a net in hopes of catching a few fish in the meantime, we wade in the sunlit shallows gathering the roots, laughing and occasionally splashing at each other. By the time we are done, most of our clothes are strewn along the grassy bank to keep out of harm's way or to dry. The underwear I left on is pretty soaked, clinging to my chest and hips.

When I say we should go, Gale dives deeper instead, wading waist-deep into the clearest section where the current is strongest, and plunges under the cold water. I watch him emerge, comically shaking water out of his hair, and my eyes inadvertently follow the glistening drops sliding down his torso.

"You coming?" I call to him. I'd better not keep looking for too long.

But when he gives me negative shake of his head, I can't resist a sudden idea. I pluck an arrow-headed leaf and sneak closer. He watches me with a grin and retreats a bit, but doesn't try hard enough to get out of my reach.

"Hey, where's the spirit of the games?" I exclaim in another attempt at Capitol accent, and pretend to stab him.

Gale clutches it to his chest and makes a funny would-be dying noise, doubling over. We begin to laugh again, but the sound dies suddenly when he slides his hand down to my wrist. The leaf slips from my hand, the sluggish current steers it from between our bodies and carries it away, a broken green arrow. I watch it go, turning away from Gale's gaze that suddenly became too serious.

He holds my hand over his heart. "No need to bother, Katniss. You are already in there."

"I know…" My voice barely makes it past my lips. It's a disconcerting thought, but hearing it makes me feel less trapped than I'd expect. Somehow, it sounds good. And safe. why fear, when the tiny bit of freedom I can steal feels better with him around? So much better I'd want to trap him in my own heart too, just in case.

I can't literally do that, of course, but my body seems to have a few ideas of its own as to what I _could_ do.

We are close, very dangerously so now that I fully realize how _bare_ our bodies are. The last parts of our immediate world we haven't dared to explore yet, so clearly defined in the sunlight and so enticingly alive. Gale's skin seems to radiate heat even through the slick film of cold water, and all my instincts want to share it and add my own to the pyre. I bring my other hand up to his chest too, carefully splaying my palm over the smooth skin and hard muscle. His heart skips a beat, before starting so much faster as I move up along the pulsing vein on his neck to curl my fingers in his hair. He sure doesn't need me to pull him down, but lets me do it, giving me the initiative.

We kiss like we aren't going to stop there, our bodies welding together as if it was the easiest thing in the world. After all, we are used to function in unison, and it seems to work just fine now. Too fine, in fact, well enough to make me forget who we are and where we are supposed to return. And how complicated things can get.

Possibly... Probably... It's hard to think straight right now, entangled in his taste and scent and warmth. Seeking a way out sure seems more of a hassle than staying right in there and never looking back… and never looking forwards either. Then things would be easy, something deep inside us would know exactly what to do.

I think I'm trying to fight that more than him when I squirm in his embrace, but Gale reacts anyway, pulling away just enough to let cold breeze onto my heated skin. I shiver.

"You okay?" The words come in a hoarse gasp and he looks a little dazed, obviously fighting an impulse to drop his lips right back to mine.

"Fine," I mutter, truthfully. There's nothing strange when I open my eyes, just us, just something I'd been trying to block out, and suddenly can't quite remember _why_.

"Need to stop?" The three words seem to have cost him a great deal of effort. And restraint. Something we are both too used to, so much I can't help but wonder how it would feel to strip it away and toss it aside like another layer of ragged clothes. Just this once.

Perhaps I should pull back, but I lean forward instead, my forehead lightly bumping into his chest. My hands are resting on his lower ribs, hesitating between pushing away from him, and travelling along the lean tracks of his muscles, to the edge of his shorts hidden under the water. The downward course seems much more appealing.

"Not really. I just…" I shake my head against him. "We shouldn't… we are…"

"We are friends, Catnip," he reminds me. "I won't ask you for anything you don't want to give. Or make you do anything you'd regret." His hands slide down my arms to my elbows, gently but firmly holding me in place as he steps back. He kisses me once more, a light peck on the forehead, and lets go.

I don't even know what I want more, whether to give or to take… all I know is I will regret doing both, and might regret _not_ doing both even more, if the chance slipping through our fingers turns out to have been the last.

"And if I do? … Want, I mean." My whole body seems to burn, even half submerged in the water. I can't quite tell what it is I want, all I know is that it requires being a lot closer. Closer than would be rational or wise, closer than we ever _should_ get.

"Me?"

"Yeah. If you…"

"There's nothing I'd want more right now, trust me." His voice is a bit strained and deeper than usual, and I can tell he's fighting to keep his gaze focused on my face. He spreads his arms away from his body in _come-and-get-me_ gesture, inviting but ostentatiously leaving the choice to me.

One last moment of hesitation later, I dive in between them, wrapping all my limbs around him like a living snare. The embrace is full of desperation and hunger, combined into a need I can't quite name. Some sort of anger too, and I'm more than willing to take it out on Gale, my nails all over shoulders and back. The deep groan reverberating straight from his lungs to mine assures me he doesn't mind at all. He pulls me flush against him, large hands splaying all over my back, cradling me close and caressing my skin. Slowly moving downwards and inwards, whipping up my desire with deliberate strokes and drowning me in sensations I never even thought possible.

Some awkward wriggling out of wet underwear later, there's just one last thing separating us. A little blood dissolves between us when Gale stabs through the thin veil of my own flesh, slowly pushing all the way in. I whimper and bite his shoulder in retaliation, clawing at his back. It hurts because it's the first time, and because it could be the last, and because I can't quite fathom how would we go on if it _wasn't_. And something in my heart hurts even when the actual pain subsides, when the rawness and fullness of the connection feels as natural as if our bodies were meant to become one... _and I don't want this time to be the last_.

We are quick and most careful; our hips moving with the rippling water, exchanging pleasure but nothing more. All else flows away with the stream as I snake my arms around Gale's neck, and he leans his forehead against mine, eyes hazy with fulfillment but devoid of promises.

There's nothing more to promise and nothing more to ask, not today.

After, I let him carry me ashore and curl in his lap, leaning against his chest. Warm, breathless and fleetingly content. Gale holds me as tightly as I hold him, the hammering of his heart drowning out whispered words I don't dare to hear. _It's okay_, I tell myself. Whatever happens, we have this, a sweet moment of knowing how it feels to be as close as possible. Of knowing what can we be, together.

Just in case.

Because what hunters would we be, if we failed to catch each other?


End file.
